Four Years
by itstartswithj
Summary: For four years, Dean thought Shae was dead. For four years, Shae thought Dean didn't care enough to look. A lot can happen in four years, and nobody knows that better than a pair of best friends who were hastily separated on a hunt gone horribly wrong. But at the end of those four years, maybe there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Dean/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: The Nest**

Dean eyed Shae as she expertly dipped a collection of knives in dead man's blood, then laid it out to dry to a crusty brown color against the shiny silver of the knife. Most of her pale blonde hair had been gathered back into a hasty bun at the nape of her neck, but a couple escaped wisps framed her sweaty face.

Dean could easily admit to himself that he was attracted to Shae. Hell, maybe with a little time he'd be able to admit it to her as well. But she was practically Bobby's daughter, and the older man would castrate him if he could see the thoughts Dean had about Shae.

Not to mention, as much as Shae would like to think she could handle the hunter life, Dean knew she would hate it. The way she was living now, staying with Bobby and attending high school, helping out the Winchesters on a few hunts here and there, wasn't the way a hunter would live.

"Are you just gonna sit there and stare at me all day or are you gonna help?" she finally snapped, her soft hazel eyes flashing up towards Dean with a hint of malice in them.

Usually she looked at Dean the way a little kid would look at Superman, even though he was only two years older than her eighteen years. But on hunts she pushed away any thoughts other than killing the sick, supernatural culprit.

Just the way the werewolf killed her parents ten years ago.

Most of Shae's hunger to hunt was revenge-based. She'd been a normal little girl when one night she witnessed a werewolf shred her parents to bits. An older man had broken in the window and killed the werewolf right when she was on the brink of death.

Bobby Singer took little traumatized Shae McMillan home with him and raised her as his own. He'd seen how John Winchester taught his boys to keep the memories and emotions of their mother's death out of hunts and, when Shae told him she wanted to hunt, he tried to do the same with her.

But she never quite let go of the fury towards the supernatural, the revenge she wanted. Quite frankly, it made her reckless on hunts, more of a liability than anything. But she told Bobby he could either take her along or she would go out and find hunts by herself. At least when she hunted with them she had them all to watch her back.

"I'll help," he decided, picking up another blade and sliding the jar of dead man's blood to sit between them on the floor of the porch.

They worked in silence until they had a dozen blades laying out drying, and then Dean screwed the lid back onto the jar and set it aside.

"How's it feel to be a high school graduate?" he asked, laying on his back with his boot-clad feet crossed and his hands behind his head.

He and Shae were pretty good friends, the closest pair of their little hunting crowd besides Dean and Sam. She'd graduated a few weeks ago but he'd been too busy on a hunt to make it. This was his first time back in two months, but the two were good about picking up right where they'd left off.

"Great," she replied with absolutely no enthusiasm in her voice. Resting on her stomach with her face on her arms, facing Dean, she cracked one eye open to sneak a peek before she realized she'd been caught and shut it again immediately. She sighed. "Now Bobby can't keep me away from hunts with the excuse that I have school to worry about."

"So you're not going to college." It wasn't a question, more of a statement. He knew better than to argue with Shae. Her stubbornness rivaled even his.

"No."

"Well I won't let you go off hunting alone."

"What are you saying?" Shae asked with a knowing grin and a little glint in her eyes.

"I want you to come hunt with me and Sam and Dad," Dean sighed. He didn't necessarily want Shae around anything supernatural, but if she was going to go chasing trouble, he wanted to be by her side to keep her safe.

Shae grinned and was getting ready to say something when the screen door slapped open and Bobby, John, and Sam all came out.

"Let's hit the road, kids," Bobby announced.

Sam and Dean rode in the Impala with John, who was filling them in on the strategy, while Shae sat beside Bobby in the truck and listened intently to her part while cleaning the undersides of her fingernails with a knife. She nicked the skin at one point and paused to suck the blood away from the wound. Vampires could smell blood from a mile away, and if she left it she'd be offering herself up like a meal.

The sun was just rising when they parked a little ways away from the warehouse holding the nest of vamps. They'd all be returning to sleep for the day, but it was still just dark enough that the hunters could stay concealed while coming up to the building.

While Shae distributed the knives that she'd dried dead man's blood onto to everybody, Bobby pulled out a baggie full of ashes. Earlier he'd burned saffron, skunk's cabbage, and trillium. The smell hid the scent of humans, so everybody carefully smeared some of the ashes over their clothes.

Shae slid one knife into one of her black combat boots in case of emergency, and tucked her main knife into the back of her jeans. In the process she lifted the back of her shirt, and Dean, unable to tear his eyes away, caught a glimpse of her blue underwear as she tucker the blade away. He stiffened immediately and turned away before Shae would catch him watching her, but Sam shot a knowing grin at his older brother.

Sam was only sixteen, but he wasn't an idiot.

"Get in your places," John ordered, dropping an arm over Sammy's shoulder. "Wait at least five minutes after Bobby is out with the captives to give them a chance to get out."

"Yes, sir," Dean said.

Bobby went in first, and alone. He was the most experienced, not to mention he didn't exactly have the look of a vampire, so the timid and jumpy prisoners would trust him when he went to get them out.

Next, Sam and John would cut through the lower floor, which they'd decided consisted of eight sleeping vampires at the least, and twelve at the most. Once they'd gone upstairs to get the leader, Dean and Shae would take care of the sleepers on the ground floor.

They circled the building to the back. The rusty door was next to a dusty window high enough that only Dean could see through to keep track of when they would make their move, so Shae stood back and got prepared.

Despite the fact that she was wearing jeans and warm leather jacket, she shivered. There was no snow on the ground yet, but the frigid December air bit at her cheeks and made her breath visible in front of her face. She fought her chattering teeth, knowing how sensitive vampire hearing was.

After what felt like hours, Dean backed away from the window, made eye contact with Shae and nodded slightly, and they made their way inside.

Dean was working his way through the dark, twisty hallways to find the nest when Shae's cell buzzed in her pocket. She paused for just a moment, facing the wall to block the light of her phone, and flipped it open to a text from John.

_Dean won't answer phone. Emergency. Abort._

Shit. "Dean," she whispered, figuring they didn't have the time to be quiet.

He whirled around to face Shae, and it took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness, but when they did he could make out a towering shadow behind Shae.

"Move!" he hollered, gripping the hilt of his knife. He rocketed forward and Shae moved just in time for him to bury his knife in the vampire's heart. It sputtered before falling back.

A few feet over, Shae had yanked her knife out and was taking on two vamps. She was holding her own for now, but Dean couldn't help her as two were now on him. They were completely ambushed and outnumbered. There was no way this would end well.

Dean was doing fine, almost had another vampire out, when a loud thud and familiar whimper made him spin around.

One vampire was using Shae as a shield between himself and Dean, one arm wrapped around her stomach while another pressed against her shoulders and collarbones so she fell more into him. Her knife had clattered to the floor by her feet.

As much as Dean knew she was trying to be brave, he could see how scared she was. If he tried to make another move against any of the vampires, she would be dead in a heartbeat. Dean was caught between a rock and a hard place, and Shae's grimaces and soft whimpers caused him to tighten his grip on his knife, although he knew there was nothing he could do.

"Don't cry, little girl," the vampire cooed, his lips skimming her ear, eliciting another jerk from her.

"I'm not a little girl," she grunted harshly. A bead of sweat rolled down her spine.

"Go now," the vampire holding her said to Dean, "and we won't kill you."

"Fine." Dean cursed under his breath as he dropped his knife. His jaw was taut as he glared at the bloodsucker holding Shae. "Give her over and we'll go."

"How stupid do you think we are?" the vampire snapped.

Keeping one arm around her, he reached up and harshly yanked Shae's head down so that one side of her neck was exposed. He sensually brushed her hair aside. Dean had to fight to keep his feet planted while the vampire licked up Shae's neck, ignoring her struggles.

"You tried to kill my family," the vampire told Dean. "Consider the girl compensation. I'm being quite generous, actually. I could just kill you all."

"I'm not leaving–"

"Dean, go," Shae managed. She felt dirty as the vampire chuckled and planted a soft kiss against her neck.

"Shae, I'm not–"

"There's nothing you can do. You might not mind dying for me, but they'll go after your family. They'll go after Sammy, too, Dean." Tears gathered in Shae's eyes, but she didn't let them fall. "Go."

"No."

All it took was a nod from the leader and one of the vampires behind Dean slammed his head into the wall. Dean crumpled to the ground, unconscious but alive.

Two hours passed before Dean came to. Three echoed voices called his name, but it wasn't until a beam of light from a flashlight caught his face that he remembered anything.

"Shae," he groaned, pushing himself slowly up with great effort. His head was pounding, but he managed to stumble to his feet with the help of the wall.

"Dean!" It was Sammy who'd found him. He hurried up to his brother, helping support him as he stumbled down the hallway groaning incoherently and holding his head. "Come on, let's get you back to the car."

"No, Shae…"

"What happened?!" Bobby saw the pair next, and the first thing he noticed was the missing third person. He angrily grabbed a still-dizzy Dean by the front of his shirt and slammed him against a well. "What the hell happened?!"

"I lost her." Dean's face crumbled as the realization hit him. "I lost her, Bobby."

* * *

**So there's that. Hope you enjoyed! Anywho, anybody got any good ideas for a more original title? Review, please! :)**

**-J**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Four Years**

Shae's head throbbed and her eyes blurred as she woke. She'd hastily yanked her head up to try to examine her surroundings, but all that resulted in was a blurry, spinning room and an off-the-charts headache.

"Humans are so weak," a voice came from somewhere behind her.

Shae tried to turn, but realized that she couldn't move. She was in a metal chair, rusty chains bounding her wrists to the armrests and her ankles to opposite chair legs. She was gagged, too, the soft material having dried up her mouth.

Evidently she'd struggled even in unconsciousness, because the chains had rubbed her wrists and ankles raw. Blood had dried onto the chair and her skin, as well as her white tank top she'd had on underneath her top two layers.

The vampires had stripped off her leather jacket and long-sleeved shirt, but the tiny room she was in was so hot she was still sweating. Her boots were gone, too, as well as the emergency knife she'd had stored.

Quickly taking in her surroundings, because that was what she knew Bobby would say to do in her situation, she was able to assume she was in a basement. The walls were made of large white bricks painted white, and the floor was covered in a scratchy yellow carpet that had suspicious red stains. In the corner was a twin mattress with a thin pillow and rumpled sheets. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling with a chain to turn it on and off, and that was the only source of light.

There was no window.

After a few moments of work she managed to get the gag out of her mouth, although now it rested on her chin. "Where am I?" she demanded.

"So weak," the voice repeated. "One little knife hilt to the head and you're unconscious for hours."

Shit. If Shae had really been unconscious for so long, she knew nothing of her location. Not that she had her cell phone or anything to give away her position, but it would provide a small amount of comfort. With no window she had no way of knowing even what time of day it was, let alone how long the transfer from the warehouse to their new location had taken. For all she knew days could have passed.

"Let's skip to the introductions, shall we?" The vampire circled around her chair so that Shae could see him.

She didn't recognize him from the warehouse, but then again it'd been dark and the leader had grabbed her from behind before she saw him. She had a gut feeling the man before her was the leader. He looked human enough, with a scruffy brown beard and a flannel, but she knew his gums hid his real identity.

"I'm Chris." He pointed to himself like Jane in _Tarzan_, then to her. "You have no identity."

"What?" Shae couldn't stop herself from asking, although she should've known better than to play into his game.

"You. Have. No. Identity." His face came close to hers, and she closed her eyes as she felt his breath wash over her skin. "From now on, you are not Shae. You are a snack, a maid, and once you've paid your dues for trying to hurt my family you will be one of us. Until then, you are _nothing_."

Shae didn't react to his words. She set her jaw, clenched her teeth, and met his eyes in an unwavering glare. But inside she was quaking. Without the knife she'd had in her boot, she was defenseless. Vampires were stronger, faster. They had the upper hand.

She would just have to sit tight and hold her own until she was broken out or found an opportunity to break herself out. And now wasn't that time.

Chris apparently didn't like Shae's lack of response to his brainwashing. If the girl was going to be stubborn, he would just have to resort to more drastic measures. He didn't care what broke her, as long as she realized how the food chain in this house went. Literally.

So he did what he knew would break the average hunter. He grabbed her ponytail, forcefully yanked it aside so that her head fell aside, and he sunk his fangs into the soft flesh of her neck.

Shae couldn't struggle against her tight bonds, although she'd be damned if she didn't try. All it caused was more friction between her already-shredded wrists and the chains, and fresh blood began to flow out of them. That didn't stop her from kicking her bound ankles as well.

When she finally realized she wasn't getting out of this one, she succumbed to the numbness. She knew Chris wouldn't kill her, as he'd just said that someday she would be one of them. All he wanted was a reaction from her, but she wasn't going to give it to him. She just closed her eyes and relaxed her tense muscles.

On the inside she was crying. She was screaming and rocking and begging and groveling. But she didn't show it on the outside.

When Chris pulled back he wiped the spare blood off his face onto his sleeves. He glared at the girl in front of him. "I'll find a way to break you, I can promise you that, sweetheart." And he stormed out, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Shae opened her eyes and slowly straightened her neck, ignoring the tug and pull of the disturbed flesh there. She felt more blood rolling down her neck onto the thin sleeve of her tank top, but she ignored it.

She stared straight ahead for hours, until the blood loss caught up to her and her head lolled to the side in sleep.

* * *

While John stitched up the abrasion on the side of Dean's head, Bobby chugged a beer between shooting terrifying glances at the oldest Winchester boy. It'd taken both Sam and John to yank Bobby off Dean back at the warehouse, and the older man had only calmed down slightly.

"Okay." John snipped off the end of the dental floss stitches and tied a knot, giving Dean a swig of whiskey. "What do we do now?"

"We figure out where the hell Shae is," Bobby demanded. "Tell us exactly what they said, Dean."

"They said she was _compensation_." Dean sniffed and took another huge drink of whiskey. "Compensation for us trying to kill them. I wasn't going to leave without her, but she told me to go and they knocked me out."

John slammed his fist on the table while Bobby finished his drink and then forcefully chucked it across the room, the glass shattering against the kitchen wall. Dean flinched and cast his eyes down, but not before nodding at Sam to go upstairs.

"God knows what they're doing to her," Bobby muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "If she's even still alive."

"We need to think," John ordered, trying to gather himself. "We know the type of people this coven targets, we know the time of day they like to strike, and we know the type of building they prefer to live in. All we have to do is wait for a case that shows up looking like their work and then we go in."

"That could be weeks!" Bobby shouted. "Hell, that could be months, or even years! Besides, who knows how far they've gotten already."

"If you have a better plan I'm all ears!" John yelled.

Dean fought the breakdown he felt coming, knowing that this was completely his fault for being unable to keep Shae safe. If he hadn't let her out of this sight that coven would be dead and they'd all be celebrating a successful hunt, instead of this panic.

"John, she could be dead." Bobby's voice broke and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "She could be dead, or they could be feeding off her, or worse yet she could be turned! We don't have time to wait. We don't."

"Bobby." John clapped his hand on the old man's shoulder, squeezing. "It's all we _can _do."

* * *

Four long years passed, but each year felt more like a hundred. For the first two, the Winchesters and Bobby chased any hunt that could remotely involve vampires. They eliminated two dozen covens easily, but none of them were _the _coven.

At the end of those two years, Sammy revealed that he couldn't do it anymore. He'd lost one of his best friends, and he'd had to watch his family go slowly crazy, and he just couldn't do it anymore. Following his high school graduation, and a huge blowout with his father and Dean, he hopped on a bus to California. To go to college.

That put a damper on things. Finally the remaining three hunters could put into perspective the odds.

Two years had passed. The best case scenario was that Shae was their portable blood bag to feed off of whenever. And the thought sucked. Nobody, not even Shae, would be able to handle that for so long.

If Dean was being honest with himself, he knew the most likely scenario was that Shae was dead. Either she'd gone for an escape and been killed, or some vampire had been unable to stop himself and had sucked her dry.

He didn't consider the third possibility. It was too painful to think about.

Bobby finally returned to South Dakota and drank most of his days away following a hunt. They'd killed a nest of vampires and come across their blood source in a couple of kidnapped girls. One was dead when they arrived, one was halfway through being turned and had to be killed, and the last one was in such bad shape she wouldn't even speak, not even to the hospital workers when they dropped her off.

Dean and John went on together for another year following the first two. The two were realists, and only went after vampire cases they stumbled upon. They went in with no hope anymore, because it hurt too much to hope and be let down.

After the third year John disappeared. Wouldn't answer his phone and left the Impala. Just up and disappeared one night while Dean was sleeping.

The fourth year hardened Dean considerably. Now twenty-four, his days consisted of either hunting, research, drinking, or nameless, faceless women. He hid his broken interior even from himself. Not that he had anyone else to hide it from – he was alone, and his hope of finding Shae had diminished to nothing. He had to be realistic – she was gone.

Four years passed, so long and lonely that finally to Dean, Shae was just the ghost of the past.

* * *

Four years in the captivity of vampires was no walk in the park either. But eventually, Shae adjusted.

They moved around a lot. If they stayed in one place for too long the deaths were a calling card for hunters, so it was a monthly occurrence for Shae to be loaded up in the car and transported to a new location.

For the first month she fought like hell, but it was no use. Even when they'd untied her and left her free to roam her little cell, it was easy for them to overtake her whenever they were thirsty.

There were ten vampires in the coven holding her. Originally they were all free to feed off of Shae, as long as they were careful not to kill her, but the leader, Chris, took a liking to her.

For the first six months he fed off of her, emotionally detached. As soon as they broke her he knew it. He would walk in and she would just sit down and tilt her head sideways, exposing her neck. After that he called off the other vamps and reserved her solely for his use.

On the seventh month things changed. He would feed off of Shae and then trail kisses all over, leaving bloody marks all over her bare arms. Eventually he kissed her lips too, and she always shivered at the taste of her blood in her mouth.

It was a year before he raped her. The first time the fire in her veins returned and she kicked and scratched and shoved and bit, but it was no use. As soon he was inside her, she froze and returned to her numb, broken state. She would just stay there, frozen while he simultaneously raped her and fed off of her.

She knew being a vampire's captive would be awful, but she'd never imagined they would take her virginity.

Chris told himself on the second year he would turn Shae so that she could be his forever. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. There was something about the vulnerability of her as a human, the sensual way he could bite into her flesh.

So four years passed. Shae was twenty-two now, and the outside world came in flashes of blurry memories. She remembered names but she couldn't put them to faces, or the other way around. Her life before Chris's coven was a mystery to even her now.

She was sure she was never getting out of here.

But then those four years ended.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Rescued**

It was four years and three months after the disastrous hunt. Dean was in some greasy diner in Iowa, enjoying a bacon cheeseburger after a particularly difficult hunt. The door opened and a woman in leather pants with a short red pixie cut walked right over to Dean's table and sat across from him.

"Uh…" Dean eyed the woman, taking a sip of his beer. "Can I help you?"

"Winchester," she said immediately. "Dean, right?"

"Depends." He sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the woman. "Who's asking?"

"Sasha." She cast her eyes down to her fidgeting hands and mumbled, "I'm in the coven that took your friend."

She gathered up the courage to look back up at Dean, who was now sending the worst glare he could muster in her direction. He wanted to kill her right then and there but he couldn't with all these people around. So he settled for taking a long gulp of his beer.

"And?" he said gruffly.

"I want to help you get her back."

"Why would _you _want that? And why now? Why not four years ago?" Then it hit Dean that this meant Shae was alive. Whether she was still human or not was debatable, but she was alive.

Then he remembered that she'd been with a coven for four years and suddenly it didn't seem like such an overall good thing after all.

"Why do you have to question why?" Sasha demanded. "Just accept the gift I'm giving to you."

"I know better than to trust scum like you," Dean spat back, and the small vampire actually flinched. "If hunting has taught me anything, it's that there's _always _a catch."

"There's no catch, okay?" Sasha sighed. "You've got your reasons for wanting her back, just like I have my reasons for wanting to return her. You can either just accept the information I want to give you, or you can keep questioning me and I will leave without telling you a word."

A muscle in Dean's jaw worked as he defiantly glared at Sasha, who returned the nasty look with just as much malice. She wasn't going to cave, Dean realized, and even though he knew there was a reason for this vampire to turn her back on her coven and share secrets with a hunter, he knew every moment counted. The last four years had to have been hell for Shae, and he wouldn't let his damn stubbornness keep him even a minute longer if there was a chance he could get her out of there.

"Fine. If you won't tell me any more of your trade secrets, tell me where Shae is."

"They're transporting the coven now," she blurted, seemingly trying to get the words out before she could second guess herself. "They're going to the abandoned factory on the south side of town and should arrive a little after dark."

"I would say thanks, but I still don't trust you." Dean slapped a twenty on the table to cover his food and stood, pushing his arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket.

"Winchester," Sasha called when he was a couple steps away. He abruptly stopped but didn't turn to face her. "Be careful."

"Always am, sweetheart." With a light chuckle, he made his way out of the diner and to the Impala.

On the way to the motel Dean kept his music cranked up so loud he couldn't hear his own thoughts, which was a good thing. Forcing himself to think only the lyrics and the rhythm to strum his fingers on the steering wheel, he sped to the cheap, shady motel and stumbled into his room. His legs gave out a few steps in, and he landed with a dull thud on his knees next to the bed. Clasping his hands, he pressed them against his forehead and closed his eyes, managing a long grimace and a deep breath in place of the breakdown that could've happened.

He wasn't praying. He was _pleading_. Pleading that this wasn't just a hoax. That he hadn't gotten his hopes up only to find that this Sasha bitch was playing a cruel trick on him.

Then again, in a sense he was hoping he wouldn't find her. Because God knows what kind of shape she'd be in after four years. Maybe he was pleading, just a little bit and without even realizing it, that she was dead. That she'd been dead all this time and was somewhere she couldn't be hurt.

He didn't know what he wanted. He just wanted Shae to be okay, wherever she was.

Despite his doubts, come nightfall he was staking out the factory in the Impala with a good arsenal of weapons. It was nearing midnight and there wasn't a sign of life – or whatever vampires had – in or around the factory. He was trying to stay optimistic, but the pain of losing her once again was gathering into a painful knot in his chest.

He was wrong. Sasha was wrong; either mistaken or the epitome of a coldhearted bitch. Either way, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Shae wasn't here.

He dropped the knife he'd been fingering into the passenger seat and cursed, slamming his open hand against the steering wheel so hard the entire dashboard shook. Staying there for a few moments longer, taking deep breaths in and out and trying to think of anything to distract himself from the disappointment, he finally reached forward and turned the keys in the ignition.

The Impala rumbled to life and its headlights flicked on, washing the gravel lot in front of the factory in a dim yellowish light. And that was when Dean saw it. The dark van parked to the side of the building, barely visible in the looming shadow. And the broken lock on the factory door.

"Son of a bitch." Frantically, Dean turned the Impala back off in what he hoped wasn't a futile effort of keeping his presence unknown. He stocked himself up with a variety of weapons and got out of the car, easing the door quietly back shut behind him.

Inside déjà vu wrapped him in its icy grip. The dark halls of the building were nearly identical to those of the disastrous hunt from years before. Unsure of whether that was a good or bad thing, he continued on.

He wished he'd asked Sasha for more information on the coven, but then again she hadn't been all that willing to give up anything more than where he could find Shae. Still, it'd be nice to have some general information, like how many vamps he was up against and where they would be keeping Shae.

He shuddered at the thought of Shae being held captive. His best friend Shae, the stubborn and witty girl who'd never taken any of his crap. The thought of her having spent her last four years as a prisoner physically hurt Dean, so he couldn't even imagine the state _she _was in.

If she was even still human.

Dean shook off the thought. Surely Sasha wouldn't have come to find Dean if they'd turned Shae. Right? Surely when he found her – _if _he found her, he reminded himself bitterly so he wouldn't get his hopes up only to be crushed if the worst case scenario came true – she would still be human. Surely.

A barely audible sound, so soft that Dean thought he'd imagined it until it came again, broke his thoughts, and he whirled to the direction it'd come from. He couldn't place the noise, could barely hear it, but he followed it nonetheless, until he came to a set of narrow cement stairs that led to a darker lower level. Quietly stepping just a couple of stairs down, the temperature dropped so significantly that Dean, even in his leather jacket, jeans, and boots, clenched his jaw and tightened his fists as he continued on.

The sound, which he could now identify as whimpering, came from behind a padlocked door. Shooting the lock would cause too much of a scene, so Dean took a page out of absentee Sam's book and bent over until his ear was close to the lock. Turning it until he heard the telltale sound of locks unlatching, it finally fell loose in his hand, and he eased the door carefully open.

Inside, a tiny girl was in the corner, legs pulled up to her chest and bony arms wrapped protectively around them. Her face was buried into her knees as she cried, but Dean could still tell it wasn't Shae. This girl's hair was a dull red, and she didn't have the ugly long scar on her left forearm that Shae did.

Dean was almost glad this wasn't Shae, because this girl was in bad shape. She was so skinny her bones looked like they were going to break her skin, so skinny her jeans hung loosely on her hips. Her wrists were bloody and torn, presumably because that was where the vampires had chosen to feed from her, and before he even approached her Dean knew she wouldn't be all there.

He surged forward and crouched beside the girl, letting his hand fall on her harm. At the touch she stiffened and quieted, and gradually let her head loll to the side. At first Dean thought she'd gone unconscious, and then she lifted one frail hand and pushed her hair aside, leaving her shredded neck exposed. Then he realized. She thought he was one of the vampires, and she was giving him access to feed on her.

They'd literally brainwashed this girl into being their obedient little snack pack.

"Hey, no, I'm here to help you," he whispered urgently. He caught her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. She looked barely eighteen. "Listen to me. Can you tell me your name?"

She swallowed. "They say I have no name," she managed, voice scratchy. "But I remember it. It's Cara."

"Good. Cara, you're doing good. I'm gonna get you out of here, alright?"

"You can't." Cara's face crumpled and she sobbed pitifully. "I'm never gonna get out of here, am I?"

"Yes. Yes, you are. I just need you to tell me one more thing. Can you tell me one more thing, Cara?"

She sniffled but nodded.

"There's another girl here. Blonde, twenty-two, big scar on her arm?"

"I know her," Cara managed, nodding. "She's Chris's favorite."

Dean's blood ran cold at what that meant, but didn't let the thought phase him. "Where can I find her?"

"I don't…I don't know. They keep us all in this hall, so she's got to be somewhere down here."

"Okay." Dean stood and shrugged off his leather jacket, leaving him in his gray t-shirt and flannel. He tucked the jacket over Cara and knelt by her once more. "Thank you, Cara. I'll be right back, okay? Just be quiet."

Out in the hallway there were at least a dozen doors. Knowing he didn't have the time to stop and have the same conversation with each captive, Dean simply chose the door nearest to the staircase. It was only logical that if Shae really was this Chris guy's favorite, they would keep her closest to the nest. He only hoped his theory was right as he worked the lock.

Pushing the door open, he immediately realized a difference in this room. For one, there was a twin mattress pushed up against the wall, as well as the luxury of a pillow and thin sheet. Something they would only give to their favorite.

She hadn't looked up at the sound of the door opening. In her opinion, ignorance was bliss. The longer she didn't acknowledge another presence in the room, the longer she could pretend it wasn't going to happen.

Dean froze at the sight of her. Laying on her back on the mattress, knees propped up and arms completely still at her sides, she stared at the single light bulb in the center of the ceiling, as if it mesmerized her. Her soft blonde locks were gathered in a knot high on her head, and she was wearing nothing more than an Iowa State sweatshirt three sizes too large and a pair of simple panties.

"Shae," Dean said, and his voice cracked.

Four years of searching, four years of getting his hopes up only to have them torn back down, four years of thinking the absolute worst. And they were over. Those terrible, awful four years were in the past.

Shae weakly lifted her head, wondering if she'd imagined the voice, and she saw him standing there.

"Dean?"


End file.
